Exclusive Crime
by SimplyLimitless
Summary: Annabeth is a criminal, tough and daunting. Some of New York's best drug trafficking and theft, that's all her and her team. Then she unexpectedly falls in love with this Percy Masters, who is actually Percy Jackson, an agent of the FBI who is assigned to use her by becoming her boyfriend. Rated T. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Rated T for minor language.**

**Characters may or may not be out of character since it's an AU.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians and its characters as it belongs to its rightful owner(s).**

* * *

**Annabeth's Point of View**

I walked away from Darkhill Alley after I dropped off the dough my team collected this week. I hated going there, especially since two street lights went out a few months ago. My friends weren't bothered by the increased darkness, in fact, they enjoyed it, but I had always preferred light for some reason. The colour black was threatening.

Turning around a street corner, the full brightness of New York hit me. I liked the city. I could walk around and no one would suspect I was anything out of the ordinary, unlike if I hung around in an abandoned house or a deserted street. There were tons of drunken freaks at night and huge gleaming advertisements that mostly got the attention.

"Hey watch it!" I said as a middle aged man hurried past me. What an idiot, didn't he know he shouldn't be running in a crowded sidewalk? I wanted to continue cursing at him but I had already arrived at my Starbucks destination. People say I was short-tempered. I didn't get that. Maybe if others just respected me, I wouldn't have to scream at them all the time.

I bought a coffee and sat in the back corner of the Starbucks, near the bathrooms. Thalia should arrive any time now. I looked at my watch and I was a few minutes early. The watch was old, it belonged to my father. He was probably somewhere doing his job as a dead person. He died in the hands of an intelligence agency, at least that was what Ryan told me. I thought that was his real name until I eavesdropped into a conversation a couple years ago to learn that it wasn't, and nobody knew what it was either. He raised me since daddy was gone and mommy dead of some illness. He was like a fatherly figure to me, but I couldn't fully see him that way. He always emphasised to never be close to anyone but myself as no one could be trusted, which meant I couldn't grow attached to even him for long. Ryan used to say nothing was fair in life, just like how my parents ditched me, and sometimes to get ahead of the game, you had to be bad. Selling products and stealing were the abilities he taught me, and he taught them well. I was the best thief in the team, but I had to be once I was the boss. And I only became that because Ryan disappeared, kidnapped or something, it was five years ago. I quickly got over it since grieving and crying were symbols of weakness. He left me his apartment and properties though, so that was nice of him.

I noticed Thalia waiting in line for a beverage, her eyes scanning the room. I waited until she bought her drink when I waved her over.

"It's winter Thalia," I said, "not an ideal time to wear shorts."

She sat down, "I wear what I want to wear dear Annabeth, leave me alone, and it's almost spring anyway. Why did you pick this table? I don't want to drink my latte when I know a table away is the place where people relieve themselves."

"Because no one comes here so we can talk in peace," I said sipping my coffee. "What's up?"

"Nothing much," she replied. "I have my eye on some nice expensive cars."

"Need any help choosing which one to steal?"

* * *

**Percy's Point of View**

I stalked my target the entire day. I guess this was her day off because she didn't try to sell anything. This Thalia Grace just entered a coffee shop. I waited a few moments to see if she was having her drink to go, but she stayed.

I slammed my car door shut. I was dressed like a gang member who didn't want to look like a gang member. I wore a grey cotton shirt with jeans and a black leather jacket. They looked like what my regular self would wear except I had a piercing in my left ear and an expensive air-bush tattoo of a dragon that was covered by my outfit but its tail still littered on my neck.

While waiting in line, I spotted Thalia deep in conversation with another person. Speaking directly to them would make me suspicious and creepy. I needed an entrance, something casual would do. I bought my grande coffee and pretended to go towards the table beside them. I took the cap off of my cup to cool it and tripped over the leg of a chair which allowed my coffee to spill on Thalia's friend.

"You bastard!" she started cursing at me with colourful words while pulling her shirt from her body. I aimed perfectly, the side of her blouse and pants were totally soaked with hot coffee.

Thalia laughed at first then she said, "Calm down Annabeth, I'm sure his parents are perfectly fine."

"Oops, I am so sorry," I apologized. "I'll pay for your dry-cleanings, I swear. I am so, so sorry."

Annabeth, as Thalia called her, stopped yelling. Eveybody was staring at us now. Mothers and fathers blocked their children's ears and headed out the exit. One of the employees started walking towards us, but before she said anything Annabeth smashed her fist in my stomach. I doubled over, it blew the air out of my lungs, but I was fine. Honestly, she didn't have a good enough punch to hurt me. She looked dissatisfied, though. I thought she was going to hit me again, instead she gathered her coat, and people got out of her way, and stormed out.

I turned to Thalia.

"I'll give you my card. My number's on it. Just tell me the bill and I'll send you a check or something," I said as I grabbed her wrist before she could take off. She smirked when I handed it and she took it gladly and left.

The card read Percy Masters, head teller of Flinton Banks, my phone number and my email. I made it myself. After they were printed, they looked surprisingly professional. Nobody took them, which was why I had so many to spare.

But, in fact, my name was Percy Jackson, a special agent in charge of the FBI and I was currently undercover to bust a crime group.

* * *

**It's short, but chapters would be varying in length. **

**By the way, Flinton Banks is something I made up. If it's real, then... I don't know.**

**Review! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians and its characters as it belongs to its rightful owner(s)**

* * *

**Annabeth's Point of View**

I hated being embarrassed.

I knew how typical teens used to dump a person's hand in a cup of warm water at a sleepover so they would pee all over their sleeping bag, which was a high level of embarrassment. I had done that before. This was a little bit like that except in public with people staring and whispering, and instead of urine, it was coffee, and instead of a sleeping bag, it was my clothes.

I stomped towards my apartment. Everywhere I went people laughed and snickered and some even snapped pictures. They were all rewarded with a glare. I never realized humans were so mean. Who took pictures to humour themselves to others' miseries? I promised myself, if any of those pictures went viral and labelled me as "crazy coffee spiller gets angry", the poster would get assassinated. I had the power, or I'd do it myself if necessary.

The burn of the coffee was horrible. My skin felt like it was going to peel off but I resisted it since being in the crime business made me do dangerous things which allowed me to be familiar with emotional and physical pains. I remembered getting my first bullet in my leg when I was eighteen and stabbed the first time in the shoulder when I was sixteen. The pathetic heat from the coffee looked like an ant in pain levels.

"Woah, slow down buster." Thalia jogged beside me with her unfinished beverage in her hand.

"What the hell is took you so long?" I asked.

"I was hungry. I bought some chips. And, oh yeah, I got the number of the guy who spilled his coffee on you," she said.

"Why?" I entered my apartment building, turning to the staircase and taking them two at a time with Thalia trailing behind.

"Because he was offering us money, Annabeth. Or just your laundry bill, but still."

I resided on the second floor, second apartment, so it wasn't a long climb. The hallway was lit with these lamps that were scattered everywhere. They were equipped with these light bulbs which really revealed the ugly beige paintwork and this shade of green on the doors that didn't match the walls.

"And," she continued, "he's kind of cute too."

I scoffed, "To others like you, he is. Maybe you're part of the clumsy community as well."

I unlocked my door and we entered my messy apartment. I tossed my jacket aside. Thalia waited while I changed and then sat on the couch.

"Give me the number," I said.

"You're not going to rip it, are you?"

"No, just pass it!" I snatched the card from Thalia's waiting hands.

Percy Masters, I read.

"His name is geeky," I insulted.

"You think everything is geeky," she replied, taking the remote and turned on the television.

"How can he make a living as a teller?" I said. "I thought geeks worked in libraries and museums."

She exhaled in annoyance, "Again, he is not a geek, and he is _head_ teller, Annabeth, read properly. I guess he's like the boss and gets paid more."

I tossed the card on the table. I knew I sounded arrogant but I really didn't like this guy.

"Do you want to stay here for the night so we can get that car bright and early in the morning?" I asked and she agreed.

* * *

"What time is it?" Thalia asked, impatient.

"Almost ten," I replied.

Thalia followed a bunch of rich folks and their cars for a while now. She tracked the location of each vehicle and for how long it was there and how frequently and analysed the best times to steal them. She said there should be one coming soon. It would be parked in the back of this convenience store. A black Audi, according to her. The owner went in daily to buy cigarettes and newspapers.

We were sitting across the street in a tow truck. Thalia had a pair of binoculars pressed on her eyes, as it never occurred to me to bring one for myself. I had already blocked a few cameras nearby so we could go and leave without the acknowledgements of others while she paid the convenience store clerk to stall the owner of the Audi for at least ten minutes.

"I see him," she called. I waited until she told me the man had parked and entered. She signalled me to drive. He would not have been able to see his car from inside the store, which was a great advantage.

I waited for cars to move. This was the part that took a long time. As soon as there was an opening, I slammed on the gas and stirred left and then right into the parking area in the back. I spotted the black Audi near the middle beside another car.

"Go, go!" Thalia urged.

"Don't rush me!" I handled a stealth tow truck, very speedy, which allowed me to work in daytime as bystanders would think I was taken a broken car or collecting from a debtor. My truck looked like a regular pickup truck with this powerful engine, appearing nothing like a towing vehicle. I started manoeuvring the stinger arm under the car and carefully slid it behind it. The stinger captured the tires with its arm.

"Done?"

"Not just yet," I said. I secured the brackets so the tires cradled comfortably and lifted the tow boom and the front wheels of the Audi came off the ground.

"There," I boasted. "Thirty-seven seconds."

"Forty-one seconds," Thalia corrected. "I counted properly."

I drove out the truck from the parking area and waited for a clearing once again and merged into the traffic.

"Success!" Thalia said, opening a soda.

"Who do you want to sell this one to?" I asked.

She thought for a while. "How about Will's? The other guy is getting cheap with us."

Will's was this warehouse where a man named Will sold and bought cars. It was made for criminals like us really, because we were one of his only customers. We brought him vehicles, stolen obviously and he knew, and he purchased them for a good price. He would either sell some cars there but most of the time he would tear them apart and he auctioned the parts on the internet.

When we arrived there, Will quickly gave us some quarters and cents so we were able to scratch off the anti-theft markings and peel the stickers. I disabled the devices that may give away our position while Will pried off the licence plates. Thalia found some change which she kept for herself and I grabbed a few business magazines from the glove compartment.

"Now who's geeky?" she mocked.

There was a briefcase in the back which included a few pens and highlighters and random scribbles that read "Lunch at twelve with Jane" or "Say happy birthday to Richard". I thought it would have contained a laptop or some important files, instead it settled with worthless stationery. Will took it since he called it.

He opened the truck to discover nothing but a few water bottles and an ice scraper. He thanked us and gave cash.

* * *

**Percy's Point of View**

Flinton was a small little bank on a street corner beside a gift shop. Few people ever went in there since other bank giants dominated in market, but it still managed to survive from services it made in other countries. I worked there. Or rather I worked for the FBI but they appointed me this one as an undercover job for my new identity.

I stood behind a counter. It was almost noon and it would be my lunch break soon. When I joined the intelligence agency, I thought I'd be shooting down bad guys and do car chases like on TV, but I've only been in a few dangerous situations. Heck, I never even had a bullet pierced inside of me before, which I guessed was a good thing, but all the great field agents have been shot at on TV! And I hadn't even been gun pointed by a serious threat.

A client entered, finally. He wanted to pay a few of his bills. Phone bills, specifically. They were over a few hundred of dollars of them, but I didn't ask why.

"Would that be all for today?" I said.

He nodded and left.

This man didn't even say anything, he just gestured. I would have thought it was rude, and then it occurred to me that the man may have been a mute. I didn't care anymore because finally twelve rang and my lunch break came. I could take a rest from doing nothing to doing something.

I dropped my nametag on the counter and speed walked to the nearest Subway and ordered. I was starving since I hadn't eaten breakfast. As I sat down by the window, I unwrapped my sandwich. I dialed a number on my cell phone while eating.

"Di Angelo," the other line answered.

"Nico, where are you?"

Nico Di Angelo was my partner, or sidekick even, because his official title was Assistant Special Agent-in-Charge. He was this kid, only a few years younger and me, who was very useful but clumsy at times.

"I'm still in D.C."

"When are you coming here then?"

"I don't know. Could be days or weeks," he said.

Last time I heard from him, he was helping with a forensic case in Washington D.C., where our headquarters were. Partners weren't supposed to be separated but our Operation Manager Chiron made an exception. Nico graduated with a degree in osteology but somehow he became a field agent like me by pulling a few strings. He was very handy in the lab which was why they needed him there.

"Do you have anything to report?" he said.

"No, not really. I am planning to follow her after. Last night, I also got her to know me."

"Well, continue- wait, Chiron wants to speak to you."

"Mr. Jackson," Chiron's deep boring voice said, "we have gotten new information about the gang and we believe we can take down the organisation if you can get closer and learn anything useful."

"I know. That's what I've been doing this whole time."

I admired this man greatly for the service he had done for the country and his ability to speak like a million languages and for holding his position in the agency longer than I have lived, but he had to retire. He was getting really old and redundant.

"I know that," he continued, "but I want you to get even closer. Do you understand?"

I frowned, "I honestly don't."

Chiron sighed, "I need you to have fake relationship."

"Huh? Who? Why?" I was disgusted by this idea, because being a stalker was apparently not good enough.

"In order to gather information obviously, Mr. Jackson. And to earn their trust." I heard papers shuffling. "You shall be the boyfriend of Ms. Annabeth Chase. If she already has a boyfriend, think of something. Do you know her?"

"Yes, but I don't think she likes me very much sir," I said.

I could almost hear him scowl. "And why is that?"

"Let's just say I had a coffee accident."

"Too bad, but you're a clever boy Jackson, you'll think of something."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to all my viewers and reviewers and everyone who followed and favourited! I forgot to mention this last chapter because I was in a rush and only had time for a quick disclaimer. I had a trip to go to the next day and I did zero packing. Also, it was late. **

**Warning: Contains drinking. Rated T.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians and its characters as they belong to their rightful owner(s).**

* * *

**Percy's Point of View**

I either had to find Thalia Grace or Annabeth Chase. I had followed Thalia enough to know her usual schedule pattern. It was four-thirty and I examined each of their files on the counter. There were two other tellers I was appointed to supervise, but since nobody was paying bills or in need of service, they were all in the back, reading the newspaper and sipping coffee.

Thalia and Annabeth seemed like regular criminal folks, both parentless and swore a lot. Chiron took great interest in them, because, as he put it, they had "connections and information that would help take down something bigger". Something international, I thought that was what he meant. They had done some crazy things, I noted as I skimmed the pages. They had their fair share of crime, from theft to burning a few houses, which may or may not have contained people. It said under both of their files, _MEDIOCRE GUNFIGHT_.

I wondered what that meant. A normal gunfight? Then what would be considered as a normal gunfight? Questions started popping in my head. How had the FBI known about that and why hadn't they arrested them when they had the chance?

"Chiron says they've only arrested a few of them," Nico told me. I left the bank as soon as it was five and called him for the second time today. I needed answers. "About three or four. It was very short. When the local police finally arrived there, everybody was gone. Not like dead gone, but they all retreated, do you know what I mean? Those who were caught were too injured to move. One died just as the police got there, so I don't know if I should count that as an arrest. That's why I said three or four-"

"Just get to the point," I said.

"Right. We got some names from the remaining three, which included Annabeth Chase and Thalia Grace and some other information that either turned out to be lies or what they, themselves, were told were lies. That's how we know. A few weeks later, one of them died from injuries and the remaining two are in prison, suffering from achluophobia and memory loss. It was a while back, five years ago."

"Thanks Nico. I'll try to keep you updated." I hung up.

I was heading to my apartment, where I changed from my work uniform to my more casual clothing of choice. They were the same clothes I wore yesterday night but I changed my grey shirt for a blue one. I had to find them, and I had a pretty good idea where Thalia Grace may be now. That is, if she followed her usual routine.

It would have taken longer if I took my own car because of rush hour traffic, so I took public transit. I walked around the park. There weren't many people there, just a couple of stay-at-home parents pushing strollers and some elderly people reading books on benches. Spring was breaking and the grass was soaked with the melted snow. An arrow of birds flew overhead, returning from their migration. I spotted Thalia between two buildings, her short spiky hair unmissable. She was with three of her friends, talking to a pretty young girl. I watched from a distance as they gave her something, a package, and the girl left.

This was a classic selling technique. First, get the client hooked on the drug by positively advertising it and give them a free sample. When the client went back for more, they'd charge a little money for it, which would gradually increase in time. The goal was to make it as expensive as possible when they became officially addicted and dependant on the drug. And now, Thalia and her group just claimed another victim.

I walked to a bench that was facing the crack between the two buildings, at the same time making sure Thalia was visible. There was a newspaper there, _USA Today_. I took out my sunglasses and opened it. It partly covered my face, I peaked above it. In front of the buildings was a mini skate park. A paved crevasse was shovelled. Two tall podiums stood on either side of it. It was not impressive. Bright orange tape and cones surrounded it, reading _caution_. There used to be a fence that circled the skate park. The wiring was pulled off, now only the skinny poles remained. There was a bicycle rack where two rusty abandoned bicycles were left, unmovable because they were locked.

I flipped the newspaper page and pushed the sunglasses to my face. It occurred to me that I may be here for a while. A teenage boy, seventeen at most, walked pass my bench. He carried a backpack. He was sweating, which was why he didn't seem to notice me through his anxiety and fear. He headed towards Thalia's direction. When he arrived, he unzipped his bag and set it down on the ground. I squinted and shifted to see its content. I had a pretty good idea what it was but I must to be sure. Thalia nodded and said something, which was impossible for me to hear. The boy had his back towards me so I didn't know if he replied. Suddenly, one of Thalia's friends, a chubby guy, grabbed the other boy's collar. Somebody calmed him down and he dropped him. They had a conversation and finally, they departed, walking together with the teenager leading. The chubby guy carried the backpack.

When it was safe, I stood up, and followed.

* * *

They went to the docks. Not the place where tourists stepped on a boat that would take them to the Statue of Liberty, but somewhere far away from that. The teen had a fishing boat, and a nice one. It looked a lot like one of those boats sold at a silent auction. _The Cape_ was its name, as read on the side.

I stood in the shadows beside a large cargo. With my phone in my hand, I pretended to text, concentrated in my thumbs. I already took a picture of them getting in the boat and of the boat itself. I waited for them to leave then zoomed with the camera, taking a blurry picture of the boy. They weren't in there very long, which made me wonder what they did.

I brought up the task reminder app and typed _Search The Cape_ for tomorrow. Thalia's next location, which would hopefully lead me to Annabeth, was my main priority right now. They shook hands and parted in different directions. I followed the group as they walked back to the more familiar settings. Two of Thalia's companions left for a shopping centre so it was just the chubby guy and her. A bus passed by and the chubby guy, without checking what bus it was, boarded it with the backpack in hand.

It was just her now. It was dark out already even though we started getting longer days. It was around eight thirty and I was starving. It sucked having to stalk without food. I remembered when Nico and I used to watch villains in the wonderful comfort of our car and being able to eat whatever we wanted. Good times…

She stopped and waited to cross the street. Across was a bar. Its banners surrounding the building read The Rectangle. When the light allowed us to go, we strolled on, I was walking behind her. She entered and before I did, I took a picture of the bar.

I was immediately hit by the smell of alcohol. A female bartender smiled and greeted me. The Rectangle was packed with people. There were tables that sat couples, either on their awkward first date or their very comfortable tenth. A few people looked professional in suits and ties and briefcases, who perched over in other seats with tattooed characters. They were lawyer probably with their clients. The back had three pool tables and two games of darts. A set of opened double doors led to something that looked like dance floor. At the end of the bar, Thalia sat in a wooden bar stool with a blonde, Annabeth, and another guy.

Beside me, a couple left their seats. I grabbed one, sat down and ordered a drink. There weren't anyone beside me. I thought of ways to introduce myself but I was afraid that the other guy beside Annabeth was her love interest. I glanced their way continuously. I could just walk up to her, flirt, and risk a beating from her possible boyfriend. Or maybe I could cause some kind of commotion…

"Oh, toughen up!" a bartender interrupted my thoughts.

"What?" I asked.

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about," he said. "I saw you checking out Annabeth over there."

I raised my eyebrows, "You know her?"

"Of course!" he continued, taking a white cloth to wipe the counter. "She and her friends there are regulars. Pay well too."

An idea popped in my mind. I tried looking bashful. "Can you, um, you know, tell me something about her?"

He laughed, "I must respect my customer's privacy man."

I reached into my pocket and took out a folded twenty dollar bill and I slipped it under the coaster. His eyes saw the movement and he was amused.

He spoke now, "She is a part-time waitress at a restaurant. Now, don't think too low of her because it was rumoured that after her old man died, she inherited a bunch of money which now she lives off of."

I nodded and gestured for him to continue.

"She is studying architecture, which I don't understand why. If she is so rich like everyone says, she doesn't need to work until she's, like, in her forties."

I sipped my lager, "Yeah? What else?"

He shrugged and took out a few glasses and used the cloth to polish them. He made an order and sent it to a customer. I sighed as I took out another bill. Two twenties were under the coaster, getting information wasn't cheap. He came back.

"She's single, that's what I hear. A few years ago, she dated a guy named Brandon, or Brent, or Bentley, or all of them. She's a player, goes from guy to guy, fools around, then dumps them a few days later. If she is really into the guy, he might last a few weeks or a couple months. Then she stopped doing this. I don't know why. It's a pretty great life. I actually don't know why."

"What about that guy beside her?"

"Why? I just told you she was single."

"If he's her ex-boyfriend, I would want to know, right?" I pulled out a fifty.

"Travis is his name. He's just a friend, I think. He's part of her gang."

"Her gang?" I repeated.

"Her, uh, gang of friends. She's pretty social," the bartender recovered. "Anyway, Travis is a security guard. He gets paid averagely. He went out with Rachel there," he pointed at a tall red headed girl playing pool, "and she dumped him for me."

I looked impressed, "Yeah? That's cool."

"Yeah, well, she dumped me. There are a lot of players out there, you have to be careful. They say she's the new Annabeth."

"Get back to Travis."

"Right. He used to be very fun and loved to pull pranks, but when his brother passed away, he became more serious, more cautious. He also kind of became boring. That's all I know," he said. "Do not fret! I will not let your good money go to waste. How about I send a drink to Annabeth on your behalf?"

Before I could say anything, he started making a cocktail, mixing the ingredients into a cocktail shaker and shaking it vigorously. He placed a martini glass on the counter and poured the yellow liquid in and garnished it with lemon and a mint leaf. He reached down and grabbed the ninety dollars from my coaster, which he stuffed in his pocket as he walked towards the end of the bar. He said something to Annabeth and she leaned forward to see at me. She looked surprised and whispered something to Thalia. I stopped focusing her.

The bartender returned with another cocktail, a different colour this time.

"This is from the nice lady at the end of the bar," he said, tilting his head towards her direction and acting professional. I finished my lager. I looked the cocktail cup and stirred the straw.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"I guess girls don't ask you over a lot," he said. "It means she welcomes you to go over to her."

I looked through the mass of people. "But there's no chair there. Where am I going to sit?"

"Even though there's like a tiny sliver of chance you might get laid, a chair is not going to stand in your way. I'll save you this seat, just in case."

I thanked him and asked for his name. "It's Leo man, and no thank you for your generous tip." I smiled and we shook hands.

I walked up to Annabeth, Thalia, and Travis, dodging two men wrestling and a drunk woman. Thalia patrolled me the whole time.

"Um, hi," I said.

Thalia grabbed my shirt collar and surprised me, catching me off guard. She pulled my face towards hers. "Are you following us?" she demanded.

I stammered, "Uh, wha-what are you talking about?"

"You don't remember? We met you at the coffeehouse. You spilled coffee on my friend. Then the next day, you just happen to be exactly where we are? Explain won't you?"

"It's just a coincidence," I insisted.

"Out of all the clubs and bars, you choose The Rec?"

"It's a much respected place. Please let me go, please? It's just a coincidence I swear."

"I don't believe in coincidences," she shoved me backwards. "I'm watching you."

I was stunned how her voice contained so much authority and how strong her grip was. She couldn't have hurt me, right? I was too strong. I was doubtful. I brushed off imaginary lint from my clothes and retook my position. I cleared my throat. I was cut off again before any words left my mouth.

"That'll be twenty-five dollars," Annabeth spoke this time, holding out her hand.

"Huh?"

"The dry-cleanings and the laundry bills. Thalia told me you offered."

I frowned, "Twenty-five dollars? That's crazy. Nobody would pay twenty-five dollars for laundry. It should be more like five dollars."

She didn't budge.

"Fine," I gave in. "Is forgive and forget included in the price?" I took out my wallet and handed two tens and a five. Headquarters wanted me to use cash most of the time.

She took the money, "Forget is."

Travis had been sitting there all this time, wordless, Thalia was glaring at me, and Annabeth was neutral. The money satisfied her.

"Why don't I buy you all a few drinks?" I tried to break the tension.

"No thanks," Travis stood up. "Drinking is not good for the liver."

He turned to his friends, "I have to go. I have an early morning shift tomorrow."

They waved and he passed me without saying a word. I shyly took the stool he just sat in. Neither of them protested. They were quiet. I was getting a feeling that walking up to them was a bad idea.

"My name is Percy," I introduced myself. "I live here, in New York. I used to be from upstate but I preferred Manhattan so I moved here."

I waited, expecting them to do the same.

"I'm Thalia and that's Annabeth," she said, refusing to elaborate more.

"Where do you come from?"

Annabeth replied this time, "I'm from California. She's from here."

Silence. I didn't think it would be this awkward. They both looked uninterested and bored.

"Can I have a few drinks over here please?" I called. Leo was busy with other customers but he heard me. He poured some things in a glass, and served us before the others. He slid the tray of cocktails and continued to do his job, his hands working non-stop.

Thalia quickly drank the drink she had in her hand and took one of the cocktails. She said, "If you need me, I'll be on the dance floor."

I faced Annabeth. She finished her old drink too and grabbed a new one. She hopped out of her seat to join Thalia.

"Wait!" I moved in front of her, blocking her way. "I'm sorry, Annabeth. I'm sorry for making a horrible first impression. I'm sorry I spilled coffee on you. And I'm sorry for stalking you. But ever since we've first met, I just couldn't stop thinking of you. Not because you punched me, but because you were just so sexy. You handled yourself well, and you seemed very independent, and I really like that in a woman."

I almost ended that sentence with a question mark. She watched me, unblinking. Then she laughed. She stepped back and reinstalled herself in the stool and motioned me to sit on the seat beside her.

"How did you follow me here?" she asked. "Who told you?"

"I, uh, um," I didn't know to respond without sounding creepy. I had been doing so well.

"I told him. He's a friend of mine," Leo came up to us.

Annabeth nodded in consideration and continued drinking. She looked at her beverage, "Shouldn't I be drunk by now?"

"I didn't put much spirit in it. It's mostly just juice," he replied. "I'll make you some with more and put it on your tab?"

She nodded, "But put it on _his_ tab."

When Leo left, she turned to me, patiently waiting for me to make a move. I cleared my throat again, "So where do you come from?"

"You've already asked that. California."

"So, uh, were you close to your parents?" I regretted saying that. I wanted to take them back and replace them with other random questions.

Leo arrived with the new cocktails. He glanced at me and went back bartending. Annabeth drank. "No, not really. They died years ago."

"I am sorry to hear that," I said. The thought of taking her hand crossed my mind, but I wasn't brave enough to do it. "You must have been so young. It must have been hard for you."

She nodded a little.

"How did you provide for yourself?" I asked.

She didn't say anything. And then finally, "This guy took me in, kind of like a foster parent."

I stopped questioning and she remained silent too. "I'm sorry," she said. "I don't like talking about this subject."

"I understand," I accepted.

"You do?"

"Sure. My dad deserted my mom and me when I was a baby. She, my mom, raised me."

"Tell me more," she was curious.

"She remarried a few years later. My step-father abused me. He would beat me up if his beer wasn't cold enough or if I told him I didn't have time to do chores because of school work. Then he started harming my mom. One day, he went out gambling at a friend's house. My mom told me to quickly pack up my bags and we left him. She didn't marry again, which was fine because we were doing well on our own. A couple years later, I was in my freshman year, and I was called to the principal's office. My mom was involved in a car crash." I stopped. I didn't like discussing about this, just like how Annabeth didn't like talking about her story.

"Yeah?" she was eager for more. She didn't seem to notice I was uncomfortable.

"She survived," I carried on. "She broke a few limbs, but she was okay. I visited her every day at the hospital. Then once, she called for a nurse, for water or something, but they didn't go to her room. She walked around the hospital for assistance and then she tripped, or slipped, something happened. She fell and broke her bones again and her neck."

"And then she died," Annabeth concluded. "You were still in your freshman year, or maybe it was summer. You had nobody to go to because they were either too far away or you didn't have any other relatives. If you did, you could have lived with them when you guys left your step-father, but you didn't. The social work people got you and put you into foster care. You went to college and now you have a job."

I was dazzled, "You're pretty smart."

She shrugged, as if it was an obvious statement, "Many of my friends are like you, including me. Thalia's one of them. Travis's one of them."

"There sure are a lot of us."

"It's unfortunate."

All I told her was true. It was always a challenge, recalling good memories without thinking of the bad ones that were among them. She drank. I drank. We bombarded each other with whatever conversation topic that came to mind and we got to know each other.

"What do you do now?" she asked me.

"I'm currently a head bank teller."

"Oh. I knew that."

"What about you?" I said.

"I'm a part-time student and a part-time waitress. It's not great pay, but it's only temporary."

"What are you studying?"

"I am leaning towards architecture, designing, and those things."

"You know, I took a class on architecture once. It was boring. I probably don't know as much as you do but it's still something."

I didn't feel good. It was the alcohol probably. Annabeth seemed fine, or maybe my eyes were being compromised. I caught myself staring at her, and found her staring back. Whoa, I hadn't acknowledged how pretty she was. It was the alcohol speaking, but I still couldn't help but notice her facial structure, how tightly her skin clung on. Her blonde hair, it was graceful and glowing under the little lighting. She had grey eyes, I realized after looking for a while, and a very gorgeous set. It was the damn alcohol, I kept reminding myself.

Our gaze still didn't break. We both had a lot to drink. She moved closer to me. At first, I thought I was imagining it, but she turned her body ninety degrees to face me completely. She grabbed my hand. Hers was soft and gentle, like the paw of a puppy. She leaned in towards me. I hesitated, nervous, but I overcame it. She was beautiful, and this time, I considered the possibility that it wasn't fully the alcohol. Our faces were so near each other's. Her eyes started to close and so did mine. And then she collapsed on my shoulder, her weight suddenly on me. I shook her. She was unconscious. I settled her back on the bar chair and allowed her torso to hover over the counter and her face to plant on the cool marble surface.

I took out one of my business cards, the same I gave to Thalia. I found a pen and barred my work number and drew an arrow indicating to the verso of the card, where I wrote my cell phone number.

I put it in her back pocket, paid for the drinks, and left.

* * *

**Don't drink and drive. **

**Now, I have to put other disclaimers: ****I do not know if that's actually how people sell drugs, but I imagine it is from TV shows and movies; ****I do not know if drinking makes you appear more attractive; but I _do_ know drinking is bad for your liver.**

**Leave a review!**


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